© THOMAS HAUSER/GETTY IMAGES
The cloud rested on the ground.
Very slowly, little by little,
the green of the pasture showed itself.
As I watched, the hill
(that I knew was there)
was gently revealed.
First the little tree which stood at its base.
Then the path on which hikers walked their dogs.
It was a slow process.
I never doubted that the hill was there.
I never doubted it would be revealed.
I never doubted the cloud would lift.
Never doubting is the key.
When I feel enmeshed in clouded thinking,
When I can’t see the hill for the clouds,
I can “never doubt” that
the answer is there,
that the cloud will lift and
I’ll see what was always there.
That which never changed.
Perfect God—perfect man
— Dolores Wagnon
